— hardly knowing what he was doing, — he fled swiftly, after the scene in La Valliere’s chamber, that strange exclusion, Louise’s grief, Montalais’s terror, the king’s wrath — all seemed to indicate some misfortune.

But what? He had arrived from London because he had been told of the existence of a danger; and almost on his arrival this appearance of danger was manifest. Was not this sufficient for a lover? Certainly it was, but it was insufficient for a pure and upright heart such as his. And yet Raoul did not seek for explanations in the very quarter where more jealous or less timid lovers would have done. He did not go straightaway to his mistress, and say, “Louise, is it true that you love me no longer? Is it true that you love another?” Full of courage, full of